Hold Me
by hilaryclaire
Summary: So, as she sits there alone in her bed, she comes to realize that, for the most part, she isn’t angry at him, or thinking of reasons not to be. Most of her just misses him terribly.
1. Notes

~ Title: Hold Me  
  
~ Author: Hilary Claire (email to: hilary_claire_@hotmail.com)  
  
~ Spoilers: Relevant Posse Comitatus spoilers. Everything else is basically alluded to...  
  
~ Rating: PG  
  
~ Summary: So, as she sits there alone in her bed, she comes to realize that, for the most part, she isn't angry at him, or thinking of reasons not to be. Most of her just misses him terribly.  
  
~ Pairings: Josh & Amy.  
  
~ Archive: Tell me where you want to put it and there's a good chance I'll say yes...  
  
~ Author's Notes: Don't know where this came from, really. Perhaps from listening to a Savage Garden CD over and over again this afternoon...? That song 'Hold Me' just screamed Josh and Amy. That's what the title is for, though it doesn't really come up in the story at all... Another possible motivation for this comes from Dead Irish Writers. I remember Amy telling Josh she could be a dame. We really haven't seen that side of her, and it's a side I think I'd like to see. While that probably isn't going to happen, and if it does, not until next fall, I thought I'd write it instead... Go Amy. Be a Dame! ;) After I wrote this, I realised that I don't ever call Amy... Amy. The only time you realise it's her is when Josh is talking to her. I really like Amy, so don't think that was some subconscious attempt to snuff her out of my story or something. Also, the 'first call' thing... I'm not entirely sure if that is something that I've picked up from another fanfic, or if it's from first season (which, sadly, I do not have on tape). If it is from a fic, and you are the one who authored it, Thanks! I don't mean to steal your thunder, or even your idea, it was just something I threw into the mix.  
  
~ Feedback: Can be directed to hilary_claire_@hotmail.com or posted through fanfiction.net.  
  
~ Disclaims: No, I don't own anything here. I'm out of school currently, and I have to do something to prevent my brain from going all mushy, right... Ownership really belongs to one of the following entities: Aaron Sorkin. NBC. Warner Brothers. John Wells Productions... You get the idea. 


	2. Hold Me

He's been pacing around her apartment for since he got off the phone with CJ twenty minutes ago.  
  
He was pacing when he was on the phone too, but this has turned into serious pacing now. He looks like he has a specific destination in mind, and the only way to get there is to walk the length of her couch, spin on his heel, and walk back the other way.  
  
"Josh," she says, coming up behind him as he's about to turn. He frowns and steps around her before answering.  
  
"Yeah?" he asks, walking around the couch to continue his pace there.  
  
"Josh," she says again.  
  
"What is it?" he asks, somewhat annoyed.  
  
"You're pacing. Josh, calm down," she pleads.  
  
"I just..." he starts. "She sounded so..."  
  
"I know," she tells him with a sigh.  
  
"I need... I need to go back to the office," he tells her finally.  
  
"There's nothing you can do at the office tonight, Josh," she tells him gently. Though she is not entirely convinced this is true, but hoping it will make him stay.  
  
"No, I just... I need to do something," Josh tells her.  
  
"Yeah," she agrees, numbly.  
  
"Come back here when you're done?" she asks, following him to the door.  
  
"I don't... It might be late," he tells her, turning back at the doorway.  
  
"That's okay," she tells him.  
  
"I don't want to wake you up, or keep you up or..." he says, desperately.  
  
"Okay," she says, knowing that this is how Josh is; a compulsive fixer with a fierce independent streak. She knows he'll come around, eventually, but wonders when, exactly that will be. "We'll talk tomorrow." she tells him.  
  
"Yeah," he agrees. "Thanks."  
  
She offers him a sad smile, and though she has followed him to the door, he does not kiss her goodnight. The door clicks shut and she sinks back, leaning into the wall, chewing her lower lip and trying not to cry.  
  
~~~  
  
Hours later, she finds herself lying in bed, wearing Josh's sweater and thoughtlessly watching CNN. She had stayed by the door for a long time before walking aimless about her apartment. Simon Donovan is part of the news cycle now; she notices the news of his death scrolls across the screen every three or four minutes.  
  
After Josh left, she had gone into the kitchen, nibbled on a cracker, but couldn't really bring herself to eat anything; fixed herself a drink, but ended up pouring it down the sink. She had walked around her apartment some more and noticed his things. His watch in the kitchen, where he had taken it off before; his beer in the fridge; his shampoo in her shower; his sweater hanging limply over her couch. She had picked up the sweater and put it on, in an attempt to feel closer to him. It didn't really work, she was still acutely aware of the fact that he was across town, comforting another woman. But the sweater smells of his aftershave, and she told herself that it was at least a start.  
  
Part of her wanted to pissed at him for walking out like that; part of her knew why she couldn't be. He was CJ's first call, he explained to her, and she was his. This was something they had agreed upon early in the campaign, long before Amy was around. She had to accept that, and believed that she did; she would be no more comfortable asking him to give up a long standing friendship than she would if he asked her to give up a close friend of her own.  
  
So, as she sits there alone in her bed, she comes to realize that, for the most part, she isn't angry at him, or thinking of reasons not to be.  
  
Most of her just misses him terribly.  
  
She wonders why he needed to leave, why he wouldn't open up and let her be there for him. She wonders when he'll be ready to accept her comfort, and then realises the 'when' is optimistic, and mentally changes the question to 'if' he'll be ready...  
  
She sighs, turning off the television, and the rolling on her side, in what she knows will be a failed effort to get some sleep.  
  
~~~~  
  
The doorbell rings, jostling her out of recently encountered slumber. She sits up, her eyes flying to the alarm clock, which glows '4:13' at her. She shakes her head, trying to remember what woke her up in the first place, and then the doorbell rings again.  
  
'It's him,' she tells herself, and sarcastically asks herself who else it could be. Her thoughts fly to Ron Butterfield beckoning CJ Cregg out of War of the Roses, leading her into the corridor to tell her about...  
  
She doesn't dwell this; she doesn't dwell on who else it could be at her door, but she peers through the peephole anyways. Much to her relief and, absurdly, just as she expected, it is indeed Josh at her door. She opens the door a little, tempted for a moment to slam it in his face, but remembers she wasn't really pissed at him anyways. She notices how much he looks something like a disobedient dog, slinking home with his tail between his legs. Ordinarily, this type of blatant self-pity would make her stomach turn; it would make her close the door. But this is Josh, and he manages to make it look good.  
  
So she steps back, opening the door wider, hiding herself behind it. She expects he will walk past her wordlessly, like he always does after they've fought, but he doesn't. He walks towards her, pushing the door closed. He wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispers.  
  
"I know," she tells him, and tries to step back, but when Josh keeps her from moving she knows he isn't finished yet.  
  
"Amy," he whispers. "I'm sorry about the work thing before. And about how I left. I ..." he hesitates. "I'm lucky you put up with me. I could have sworn you were planning to slam that door in my face a minute ago," he tells her, his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice.  
  
"I was considering it," she admits, wryly.  
  
Neither of them say anything for a moment, they just stand there, he with his chin on her shoulder, her head resting against his.  
  
"Come on," she finally says to him. "Let's go to bed," she steps away, walking towards the bedroom.  
  
"Amy," he calls her with a hint of desperation in his voice, and she turns back just as he grabs her wrist.  
  
"Josh," she counters, matching his tone. Then, softer, "I was sleeping."  
  
"I know, I just..." he takes a step towards her, effectively closing the space between them. "I love you Amy. I just wanted to say that to you... I wanted you to know. In case something happens..." he explains lamely, looking at her with sad eyes.  
  
"Nothing's going to happen, Josh," she tells him.  
  
"You promise?" he asks, dryly.  
  
"Nothing's going to happen," she insists.  
  
"Okay," he says softly, hopefully. "Sorry I woke you."  
  
She shrugs, then smiles. "Come to bed. We'll talk tomorrow," she tells him.  
  
"Yeah," he says, and follows her into the bedroom. 


End file.
